


In the Woods

by serenbach



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/pseuds/serenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A walk in the woods made Mahariel recall old memories and regrets - and led to some new ones. K!meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Woods

Zevran smelled just like him. Usually the assassin smelled of strange leather and metal and just a hint of the poisons he carried around with him. But after three days trailing through the Bracillian Forest, he smelled of familiar leathers and leaves and loam, with a hint of bowsting and Halla.

It made her homesick. It made her heartsick. It made her follow him further into the woods, away from the prying, concerned eyes of her followers. 

He wasn’t surprised to find her following him, but he was surprised when she tersely ordered, ’don’t speak.’ She couldn’t stop him from smirking though, as she pushed him to the floor and stripped him of his armour. 

She closed her eyes and reached out to touch him. Zevran’s hair was too long, so she left it alone very quickly and traced his forehead and cheekbones, imagining her old clan mate’s markings on her new companion’s face.

Eyes still closed, she traced her hands over his body in a way she had never really done with Tamlen but had always dreamed of. She felt the form of him beneath her hands, the warmth and texture of his skin and felt no desire, just unbearable grief and longing.

_(and why hadn’t she? Why had they waited? If only she had known how little time they had…)_

She touched the spot on his ribs where she knew that Tamlen had been ticklish, but Zevran didn’t respond. She imagined the sound of his laughter. She traced her tongue down the phantom scar on his wrist that Zevran didn’t have, but that Tamlen had received the first time he’d held a hunting knife. She kissed the place on his knee where Tamlen had cut himself as a young child, falling out of a tree while they had been hiding from the Keeper from some childish misdemeanour that she couldn’t even remember.

The grief she'd had to suppress for the good of Fereldan overwhelmed her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, and Zevran shifted beneath her, in confusion rather than desire.

‘My dear…?’ he began, but she interrupted him.

‘No talking!’ Still picturing her beloved’s face, she slid down onto him, relishing his gasp, the gasp she had never had the opportunity to produce from Tamlen. 

She bucked her hips against him hard, remembering her lost love, and crying at the memories.

When he came, Zevran’s groan was lusty, but she cried out Tamlen’s name in despair and sorrow.

As soon as she could move, she scrambled away from Zevran and dressed as quickly as she could. Her grief had ebbed slightly, to be replaced by shame. 

It wasn’t much of an improvement. 

Before she could leave, Zevran grabbed her arm. She didn’t want to meet his eyes - he had every reason to be annoyed - but he tilted her chin up with his hand so that she had no choice. She was surprised by the seemingly genuine concern in his eyes. 

‘Who’s Tamlen?’ he asked softly. There was understanding in his voice, and it almost undid her. Almost.

Instead she forced back her tears and shook her head in guilt and self-disgust before walking away.

They still smelled the same.


End file.
